


Empty Crown

by Galaticx



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, and chocobos, but with magic, slightly implied noctis/luna?, sorry regis you count as a minor character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaticx/pseuds/Galaticx
Summary: Magical wild west alternate universe;Noctis is on the run. His father is dead, their throne stolen from them, and he has nothing left but his adviser, his title, and the final words of his father. With Niflheim hot on his heels, Ignis steers the two of them into the desert, hoping to lose their pursuers, but they find themselves in the friendly hands of three strangers, two of which are happy to help.Relationships to appear, though I'm currently torn between which of the boys will end up with who.
Kudos: 5





	1. Buried for a Night Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, this is unbeta'd, so I apologize for any typos...

6:37.

Ignis stared down at the hands clicking across the face of the black-metaled pocket watch in the palm of his gloved hand, thinking with a slightly furrowed brow. Two minutes late is one thing, five is less excusable, but seven is past the point of mere worry. He slid the small device into his vest pocket and turned away from the front doors of the dancehall, walking with a swift purpose towards the main building of the manor.

Inside the building is dimly lit by several small wall lights, guiding his path as he scales the stairs to the second floor and raps his knuckles against a closed door, once, twice, three times before he leans back and clears his throat. “Noctis, you’d best not be sleeping,” the ash-colored brunette called through the heavy wood door, “you’re already late as is.”

A shadow shifted against the bottom of the door, its owner’s presence betrayed by the flickering light, green eyes tracking the movement before he takes the doorknob in his hand. It’s twisted to one side and Ignis pushed the door aside, coming face-to-face with his quarry, sapphire eyes widened in surprise. The ebony-haired young man was half-in his pants, stepping one leg through, the other still bare and pulled close to his torso as he shimmied into them. His black vest hung unbuttoned, starkly contrasted against the white one underneath, though it nearly blends into the jacket hung over his left shoulder. A tie laid slack against his neck, untied.

“Hey, Ignis,” the man said, meekly, nearly losing his balance, though he’s quickly returned solidly to his feet by the bespectacled individual, one gloved hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t sleeping?”

“No.” Came the sharp, simple reply, like a single knife to the throat, and Ignis stood him straight, making quick work of the buttons of his vest as he buttoned up his own pants and looped a belt into place. “Noctis, you were expected at the hall over ten minutes ago.” Brows drawn, the ash-brunette plucked a stray twig from ebony hair, inspecting it. “Perhaps you weren’t asleep.”

“Told you. I, uh,” Noctis leaned his head back as his adviser settled the tie situation, knotting it gently at the base of his neck, “might’ve snuck out for a quick ride.” He heard the other man huff an incredulous reply as he’s ushered into clean, low-cut boots, and felt the black overcoat being smoothed down against his sides and back.

Ignis retrieved a short-bristled comb from the mirrored dresser nearby, taking a short moment to brush down mussed, raven hair. “We will continue this conversation later. For now, let us focus on getting you to the dancehall before sunset.”

There was a crescendo of sound from the hall as the two men entered, both from the band and the attendees. Ignis stood atop the spiraling stairs leading to the lowered ballroom floor, hands clasped one over the other, and someone from the band noticed him, bringing their mates to a stop. Everyone turned to face him, men and women dressed to the nines focused with full attention.

“Now arriving, Noctis Lucis Caelum,” he called out in a steady, even voice, and hushed whispers begin spreading between the guests. Several women dipped behind feathered fans, hiding their lips from view as they muttered amongst themselves. “Prince of Insomnia, and heir to the line of Lucis,” Ignis stepped back, bowing as the raven passed him by, standing tall, and began to descend a set of spiraling, golden stairs.

Like they were snow and he were a burning knife, the crowd parts, clearing a wide berth as the young man drew closer and closer to a graying, bearded man who welcomed him with open arms. By his side stood an older man, hair turned white by years far passed, the color near matching the sharp suit he was dressed in.

“You’ve finally made it, my boy.” Noctis was drawn closer with a gentle hand on his shoulder, and made to stand facing the gray haired man. “This is his Majesty, Iedolas Aldercapt.” He offered a hand to the white-clad man, who eyed him with an upturned nose, before taking it. “And this is my son, Noctis.”

Iedolas drew away quickly, as if he’d been burned by the touch, and the younger man _swears_ he saw him rub his hand against the side of his pantleg, as if trying to brush it clean of filth. “How nice it is to finally meet you.” Somehow, Noctis felt that was a lie, though perhaps it merely boiled down to the fact that their kingdoms had been at odds for centuries. “I’m glad that your father has agreed to the ceasefire. And what a wonderful party for such an occasion!”

Disbelieving, Noctis shot a questioning glance up at his father as the emperor turned around, gesturing to the crowds as they returned to their festivities. Regis merely offered him a slight encouraging nod and they both turned away from each other. Without another word, the two rulers disappeared into a flood of nobility, presumedly off to mingle. He turned around himself, freezing up when he caught sight of a mess of red hair among the crowd, hidden beneath a gray hat, though when he blinked, whatever, _whoever_ , he’d seen is long gone.

“Noct,” Ignis said from behind him, gently settling one hand against the back of his forearm, pulling him back to focus. “Lunafreya has been waiting for you to arrive for quite some time now. You owe her a dance.”

Sapphire eyes darted across the crowd from opening to opening before he finally caught the sight of curled, blonde hair and a long, sweeping dress. Smiling, the young woman captured his gaze with her own and kindly waved him over. His feet tangled over themselves before he was sent on his way with a gentle, loving push from his adviser.

Ignis disappeared into the crowd once he was on his way, though he was sure he would never be outside arm’s reach. “Have fun now,”

They’d danced for quite some time before an extensive banquet was wheeled into the hall, drawing the attention of most attendees. Lunafreya took the opportunity to snatch him away by the wrist, leading him behind her as if they were children all over again. Golden stairs were scaled just as easily as they’d been earlier, though, this time around, much less elegantly on his part, and then he’s lead to a balcony at the end of the party hall, stretched out over a short, dipping hill. Blooms bustled in the wind, caught by the invisible hands that pulled off petals of various shades and tones, a few of which Noctis snatched from midair as they drifted by before he gently held a handful out to the blonde beside him.

Luna chuckled, taking his hand in hers, palm still upturned, and held it over the railing so that, when the breeze pushed by again, the petals were stolen from his grasp. Two pairs of blue eyes watched them dance in the gale before they became indistinguishable from the others and then, they were lost to the swaying boughs of towering trees.

“Have you been faring well?” She asked after a long drought of silence, long enough that it startled him from whatever spell had been cast over him.

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck and then leaned forward, resting both arms against the wooden railing. “Well enough, I suppose.” He replied, though it doesn’t feel right. Not quite the truth. He’d felt off all day, hence his ride before the party. “Though I hope you’ve been better,”

She nodded, dress catching in the breeze, trailing behind her like ethereal wings. “As well as I can be!” There’s a joy in her voice that doesn’t quite reach her eyes or lips, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he merely leaned closer, his sleeved arm brushing against hers, black fabric against white, though they’re both the light in their own right. Luna was the Oracle, blessed by the gods, and he was from the line of Lucis, the name had to mean _light_ for good reason, surely.

Humming, the woman gently rested her head upon his shoulder, blue eyes watching as fireflies emerged from the flowing grass, like wisps on the wind. No thoughts were given to what others may think, he merely returned the gesture, breathing deep as a fresh gust blew against their faces, the scent of summer on the wind.

Then something broke.

Both in the literal, physical sense, as well as the metaphorical one. There was the sound of glass shattering, and then a loud, thunderous ring that Noctis recognized, with horror, as gunfire. He jumped in front of Lunafreya, magic dancing across the ends of his fingers, holding one arm in front of her to keep her back and away from danger.

People screamed from within the hall, fleeing from the scene with hasty steps. A few women tripped over their long, extravagant skirts, and then, before long, Ignis was upon them, alongside a white-haired man that Noctis distantly identified as Ravus, Luna’s brother. Had he been here this whole time?

Then smoke met his nose, wisping up like insult to injury, and then Ignis was ushering them towards the doors, leading them down the upper floor’s halls, covering them as though he were a shield. Another shot rang out, though not aimed at them, and then a second, and third. Attendees, previously so joyous in their revelries, stop short, falling to the ground, unmoving. Unbreathing.

Luna clutched his arm into her own, burying her head against him as they continued, unable to look.

But he couldn’t look away.

There was a fire spreading across the lower levels, burning woods and fabrics alike, and he watched Iedolas flee up a rounded set of stairs, accompanied by a hulking, armoured creature. At least, he didn’t think that was a human. Not with how it launched against Crownsguard and civilians alike, slicing skin, shattering bones. One man was knocked clean over the railing to the lower floor, landing with a sickening noise that made even Ravus flinch.

Before long, emerging from the flames, he saw his father burst free, quickly climbing the same golden staircase he’d just ascended himself not long ago. He was alive! Though he was given no opportunity to revel in his father’s escape, for across the room, windows shattered and several clunking, man-shaped creatures, made of metal, with scowling, green faces began their march across the hall, cutting down anyone in their path.

“This way!” Someone called to them, and risked Noctis turning his gaze away from the monsters, surprised to see the familiar face of Nyx from between an opening in the broken wall. He waved at them with a gloved hand, urging them to come through. Ignis sent the prince first, then was ushered through himself by Ravus. Luna was next, though the prince’s adviser was already leading him away as the white-haired man called out,

“Get Noctis to safety! I can protect my sister.”

Noctis hesitated against the hand on the small of his back trying to persuade him towards the stables. Clearing his throat, Nyx caught his attention, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure they get to safety. If it’s the last thing I do.”

“Thank you.” A short, curt nod was his response before Ignis dragged him away, as fire snapped wooden beams of the dancehall. With frightened eyes, he watched as the skirt of Lunafreya’s dress caught against sharp shards of wood, though Nyx was quick to free her and, with a sharp shove from her brother, she was freed. Ravus never followed through before the building started to collapse, and he couldn’t bear to watch any longer as the Crownsguard reached his hand into the encroaching flames, searching.

By the time they’d reached the stables, heavy-breathed and with sore muscles, the fire had yet to spread to it. Ignis held the prince low in the nearby underbrush as several Niflheim-built magitek marched by, clutching guns, though the building was spared. Once they had passed, the adviser and his ward sprinted from the bushes. There was a split second where Noctis casted his gaze over his shoulders, though he couldn’t spy neither Nyx, Luna, or Ravus, as the dancehall crackled and toppled, reduced to mere fuel for a burning inferno.

There was nothing alive inside the stables, most of the chocobos seemingly had escaped, though there were a few lying on their stall floors, dispatched. Noctis felt his breath hitch when he found his favorite bird’s stall empty. Had she been taken?

“Noct,” he heard Ignis mutter, and, when he turned to face him, was directed with a mere finger pointed in the direction of open barn doors. Standing in the entrance was King Regis, one hand clutched around two sets of reins as he led two chocobos towards them. “My king,”

“No time for formalities, Ignis.” Regis passed off a bird to the older of the boys, and Noctis immediately recognized it as his father’s personal mount, a hardy, iridescent-feathered creature with bright, kind eyes. She chirped at them, leaning down to preen Ignis’s hair. “We have to leave. Take my son, and protect him with your life.”

A stern nod was his response, though the king quickly turned away, mounting the other chocobo with slight difficulty, his braced knee unwilling to bend easily. Ignis boosted the prince up onto their bird’s back before climbing alongside him, sheltering him with his taller frame from behind. Side-by-side, prince and king rode towards the open barn doors, stopping only when the older man reached out a gentle hand.

“Walk tall, my son.” Regis said, a sadness in his eyes, and leaned forward to place a slight kiss to Noctis’s forehead. With so many emotions swelling in his chest, Noctis swore he felt nothing at all. The king urged his bird forward, disappearing into the darkness of the night, and soon, the two young men saw several Niflheim soldiers rush off after him.

He felt as if that was his father’s goodbye. Ignis knocked his heels against the bird’s side, persuading her forward as he kept one arm wrapped around the prince, securing him in place, and they turned away into the opposite direction, headed for the desert.

Separated, son and father rode towards their fates.

Night had descended across the land, covering the lands of Lucis is a dark haze. Behind their fleeing form, a fire blazed like a harsh sunset, leaving the royal manor as nothing but rubble and ash, the somber glow their only other companion. Ignis brought Regalia to a halt, listening over her quiet peeping, He could have sworn he’d heard something.

There was a slight clattering of armour approaching on the horizon. Against the glow of embers, green eyes made out the form of several Niffs dressed in full body suits of metal, some aiming rifles down the open field. Ignis hissed out a barely audible curse, quickly urging the bird to full speed.

In front of him, Noctis swore in turn. “Are we being followed?” His adviser need not answer as a shot rung out across the countryside, a bullet striking stone mere feet behind them. Hand held out, the raven summoned a small revolver to his grasp and steadied his aim with his free hand before firing in return, two bullets striking against metal, and one soldier dropped off his chocobo, a foot still caught in a stirrup.

“Mind your ammunition, and hold tight.” Ignis warned before steering the bird around a tall boulder as another soldier aimed down the barrel of their rifle. They took a second quick turn, switching directions against the Niffs, and, when they rode by, the adviser summoned a knife into his hand, black metal glinting in the inferno’s shine, plunging it into a slight separation of armour on a soldier’s neck.

Noctis took a third shot and grunted in dismay when he heard it ricochet off a rock. Three bullets in the chamber, three soldiers left. A rifle fired and they both ducked from reflex, though it whizzed past them as smoke hung in the air. Regalia startled slightly, her head tossing as she veered to the right, knocking into a Niflheim bird and its rider.

Ignis kicked at the man, hitting him square in the gut with a booted foot, and, winded, he doubled over. Then the gun in his hands was snatched away and Noctis took the reins as his adviser twisted around, aiming down the sights at the next nearest soldier. He took his shot, and the bird nearly flipped over from the sudden lack of weight as the man collapsed off its back.

“Nice one, Specs!” But the rush of joy was short lived, for then the man that Ignis had kicked was back at their side, pulling a gun from his belt holster. Sapphire eyes widened, and the prince tried to spur Regalia further, but the man took a tight hold of the reins, bodying his bird against theirs so that they both stumbled.

As he pulled the trigger, Ignis slashed at him with a second dagger, catching him in the arm, before he was grabbed from his saddle and deposited into the soil below. The last rider stopped short, but still ran their companion over, sending them flying from their own saddle. “I do believe that is the last of them.”

No reply.

“Noctis?” Ignis turned his gaze down, eyes wide with horror as he was met with the prince clutching at his own side. Crimson dripped from between his fingers, a pained expression on his face. “Noct!”

Regalia was pulled to a stop, and he hopped down from the saddle, steadying the raven with gentle hands. He discarded the stolen rifle to the ground, quickly stripping off the younger man’s black jacket and vest, finding the injury was to the muscle of his side rather than his stomach or lung. Hefting Noctis into his arms, mindful of his injury, he removed him from the saddle, whistling for the chocobo to follow.

Noctis was laid against a short boulder, sitting up, and Ignis pressed the man’s hands to his wound, encouraging him to keep pressure. The raven nodded through his grimace as his adviser turned away, glasses slipping down his nose, and began to cut down the prince’s jacket into several long strips, which were then taken and secured tightly around his torso.

“I need to find you some help,” Ignis said as he stood back up, climbing into the bird’s saddle. He held out a hand, open palmed, to his ward, who took it and, with some difficulty, was returned to his previous position. An arm was returned to keep him in place, “try to keep awake,” and then they were rushing off to the nearest road.

The nearest town was Hammerhead, but that was still quite some time away. With Noctis’s pained breaths against his chest, he sincerely hoped there was a doctor in that town. All they needed was time and luck, both of which seemed to be against them at the moment.

* * *

Sunlight crept over the clifftops, reflecting off the glass panes of the second floor of the Hammerhead saloons and down into the amber eyes of the man currently piling bags into the back of a chocobo drawn cart. He shielded them for a moment before turning to call over his shoulder. “Come on! Let’s get moving!”

His response was the slam of a door opening from the second level of a nearby building, a small teenaged girl stepping out onto the balcony, arms crossed. “I thought we were waiting for Prompto’s dad to get back!” She yelled in reply as a blonde man slipped out from the hotel room, eyes wide and a slight grimace settling on his features at the commotion. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, the sleeve of a shirt hanging from the opening, and he sets off for the stairs around the side of the building.

“Dad said to leave if he wasn’t back before sun-up,” the blonde says, much quieter, as he tosses his bag into the back of the covered wagon. “ _Now, Prompto, if I’m not back in time, just head back to Lestallum. I can get a ride from Insomnia on my own._ ” He was mimicking the gruff voice of an older man, features setting into a parody of the expression his father had made. “That’s what he told me right when he left.”

By his side, the amber-eyed man leans against the wagon, looking up at the brunette girl. “Exactly. So get your ass in the wagon.” She rolled her eyes at him and retreated back into the room as he went to pick up another bag from a small, hand pulled cart, hefting it onto his shoulder. “Give me a hand, Prompto.” The blonde didn’t respond. “Prompto?”

He tossed the bag down before turning on his heel, eyes narrowed, only to see the blonde staring off into the distance, down the cobbled main road. Prompto’s head is tilted to one side, like a puppy, as his blue eyes watched something with rapt attention. Putting a hand on his hip, the brunette man followed his gaze,

Now, seeing a chocobo and rider on the road wasn’t unusual, even though the hour was still early, but seeing an iridescent-black chocobo and rider running down the road at full speed certainly was a bit peculiar. Even more so when the rider seemed to catch sight of them, skidding to a stop.

The man atop the bird seemed pallor in the face, a hollow sort of pale from worry or fear, and though the sun caught in his round-framed glasses, a desperate look flashed in his green eyes. “Please,” the man implored as he urged the bird a touch closer, “my friend needs help.”

It was then that Prompto and his friend caught sight of the form of a younger man in his arms, face shadowed by his ebony hair. Upon a moment’s length of further inspection, the brunette caught sight of blood upon their hands, and he quickly offered his hands up to slip the raven-haired man free from his friend’s grasp. He seemed nervous to let him go, but when the stranger shifted his friend in his arms to hold him more securely, he relaxed enough that his shoulders untensed, slumping ever so slightly.

“Iris, make sure a bed is clear!” He called up to the open room, spying his sister curiously watching from the doorway. “Prompto, grab the med bag from the wagon. You, follow us up.”

The man dismounted his chocobo and took her by the reins, too worried to bother stopping her from preening his hair. He watched as the blonde man climbed into the back of the cart, shifting boxes and bags around before emerging with a small white bag in his hands, and then shrugged one shoulder in the direction of the room. “We were staying up there last night, that’s where Gladio’s taking him.”

Prompto watched as the man nodded a shallow reply, still pale in the face with a worried brow. He hitched his bird to a nearby post with a water trough, patting her soothingly along her neck before following the blonde up the stairs.

“I’m Prompto by the way, and Gladio’s sister is Iris! Don’t worry, we’ll do everything we can to help your friend.”

“Thank you. You’ve no idea how much that means to me.”

Though crude, the makeshift tourniquet had helped prevent Noctis from bleeding out. It, however, did not change the fact his breaths were hitched and shallow, and his skin pale. Gladio had moved quickly to clean the wound, finding that the bullet hadn’t gone all the way through, which has certainly helped the man’s case, and stitching the injury closed once the bullet had been removed. His sister looked at it with a disgusted eye before shivering and turning away.

Once finished, the brunette leaned back in the wooden chair he’d grabbed away from the vanity table, the grained wood creaking beneath his muscled weight. “It’s all up to him now.” Gladio said as he stood, mindful not to touch anything with his bloodied hands. He disappeared out the room to wash them clean, leaving them all in a dreadful sort of silence.

“What happened?” Iris asked, curiosity finally getting the best of her. Prompto shushed her, pressing a hand to her face with a stern sort of look that looked foreign on his face. She recognized it as the same sort of face his father made when disapproving of something someone had said. “We were all thinking it!” She cried out in defense as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

By their sides, the light-brunette stayed hushed before he suddenly drew a shaky breath, removing his glasses from his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose before drawing a small square of white cloth from his vest pocket, wiping the lenses clean and then putting the round frames back into place. It was then that he took a good moment to look at the two individuals sitting before him.

Prompto was dressed in tight working pants, near threadbare on the knees and worn at the cuffs, where they covered over a pair of black ranch boots. His torso was covered in a dark gray vest with a lighter shade lining out patterns, a red button-up shirt beneath it, though the sleeves were rolled to his upper arms, secured into place by small strips of fabric attached to buttons at the middle of his bicep.

With his lower arms uncovered, there was a strip of leather visible, decorated with the image of a star and a barbed wire, covering a wrist. His face was lightly sunburned, making his freckles all the more prominent. Blue eyes were lit up with concern as he watched Noctis rest, already so invested in this stranger he’d just met. Green eyes lingered on the gunbelt strapped to his hip before finally drifting away.

By his side, Iris was now sitting on the foot of the bed with her handed folded into her lap. She had on a soft, gray button-up, her sleeves rolled ever so slightly. Her skirt, black with red dots across it, stopped mid-calf, to reveal a pair of lace-up boots that looked similar to her friend’s. A necklace was hung to her mid-chest, golden chain with a red gemstone.

She and her brother had the same color eyes, though her hair was a touch lighter. It stopped right below her jaw and was cut a bit choppily, but it wasn’t unflattering, instead suiting her rather well.

Ignis cleared his throat after a moment. “We were… attacked.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. He was unwilling to say any further, and it seemed that the other picked up on that. A throat cleared from the doorway, and all three of them turned around to look.

“That seemed obvious enough.” Gladio crossed through the entrance to their shared room, having left the door open when he’d left. “But by who?”

“I… can’t say. It was dark out.” He’s not one for lying, but then again it also wasn’t quite a lie. Though Noctis had always told him he had never a been very good liar.

Gladio huffed, picking up Iris’s bag, and Ignis took a good look at him for the first time. With brown hair the color of burning wood and amber-red eyes as the flames, alongside the tattoos covering what bit of his arms were visible from beneath rolled navy blue sleeves, everything about this man seemed to scream dangerous. He was built like a brick house, muscled to the point that saying he was strong would be an understatement. His jawline was dusted with the modest beginnings of a beard, hair shaved along the sides and the rest pulled back into a low-tied ponytail.

“What about your names? Can you say that much?” The wooden chair was slid back into place in front of the vanity table with a slight creaking of the floorboards.

“I’m Ignis. My friend is Noct.”

“Well, _Ignis_ ,” it felt like a sneer, but he couldn’t quite see the older man’s face. “I’d be sure to keep your friend from pushing himself for a while. And then hope an infection doesn’t set in.”

With that, Gladio was ushering his sister and their friend out from the room, leaving Ignis and Noctis alone. A heavy sigh slipped from the bespectacled man’s face and he took a seat at the end of the bed where Iris had just been. Their steps retreated down the balcony, around the corner, before they left earshot.

Prompto wormed himself out from beneath the older man’s arm from where he’d slung it over his shoulders. “Woah, woah, wait. We can’t just leave them like that!”

Blue eyes stared fiercely up into amber ones, a brunette brow arching in return. “I’m sure they have money. Look at that chocobo.” Regalia perked her head up at them, chirping. “They’ll be fine.”

“But there aren’t any doctors around here, Gladdy! The closest one is in Galdin Quay!”

“Iris, not you too.”

“Amicitia! It means friendship, Gladio! Who are we if we aren’t Amicitia!” His sister persuaded, pleading at him with puppy-dog eyes and hands clasped together. He sighed, rubbing a hand against his brow.

Now, how could he argue with that? “Alright, alright… but we’ll need another cart. See if we can’t loan one from Cid.”

Iris clapped her hands together in joy before grabbing Prompto by the arm, dragging him alongside her. Gladio could only let out a second sigh as he went to scale the stairs for the umpteenth time in one, single day.

They’d left the door open in their departure, but he knocked on it anyways as he stepped into the room. Ignis and his friend looked exactly as they had when he’d left them, though a bit more defeated. He had his glasses in his hand, the other resting, open-palmed, against his face. Clearly, he had been thinking about their next move.

Upon hearing the knock, the ash-brunette lifted his head, catching sight of the older man in the doorway. “Did you forget something?” He inquired, moving to stand. His gloves were stained with blood, alongside his rather proper-looking vest.

“Come with us.” Gladio said, simply, and stepped further into the room. “My sister made a fair point on our way to the wagon. There’s no doctors around here. Let us take you to Galdin Quay, then you’ll be better off, at the very least.”

Ignis looked taken aback, surprised to hear such an offer from the man who’d seemed so ready to merely leave them only a few moments ago. “That sounds rather wonderful, actually. Having a doctor nearby would be a good idea.”

“Great. Iris is going to borrow a cart from Cid, the old man who runs this town. We’ll hitch your chocobo to it, and then get a move on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make the world go round!


	2. Run, Boy, Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should stop writing before it gets to be 3 am, huh

“I hadn’t meant to do it!” Prompto cried out, head in his hands. He’s been left to drive one of the wagons, but had managed to dislocate a wheel from the back of the vehicle on a rather menacing pebble. Thankfully, it had been the wagon with the supplies in the back, not the sleeping and injured prince.

Before they’d set out from Hammerhead, they’d placed down a folded blanket in the covered wagon, giving Noctis a softer place to rest. Ignis had climbed into the back with him, keeping him steady and sitting upright, and Gladio had taken the reins of Regalia, who had been harnessed up to the borrowed cart as told. That left Prompto and Iris to the other vehicle, and her brother had been reluctant for her to drive.

Though, as it seemed, it may have been a better idea.

“That does not change the fact it’s happened.” Ignis told the blonde as he knelt down to inspect the damage. “This looks easy enough to fix, though we may have to unload some of your goods before we can lift the wagon enough.”

Gladio swung his legs down from the front of the borrowed coach, landing on the cobbled road with a rather solid thud of his boots. “Leave it to me. I’ll lift it, you and Prompto can get it back into place.”

As he rolled his shoulders, the younger brunette eyed him suspiciously. “I do believe it’s rather heavy, even for you.” He was merely given a prideful sort of grin as the blonde rolled the wheel to its proper position, and then the oldest of the group was lifting the wagon all on his lonesome, a grunt of struggle slipping from his lips.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Gladdy!” Iris called from her seated position beside Noctis, having taken over for Ignis to keep him upright. He ignored her as the wheel was knocked back into place, and then he let go with a heavy sigh of relief.

“See? All fine. Alright, now,” he turned to Ignis, brushing his hands against one another to shake some dirt free. “Can you drive a wagon?” A nod was his reply. “Great. You can Prompto can switch places then. I’m sure even you can keep an unconscious man from falling over.”

For a moment, Ignis hesitated, as if he didn’t wish to leave his friend’s side. Though, surely, if these three were up to something, they would have set their plan into motion long before now, right? Though his thoughts were cut short by the blonde at his side puffing out his cheeks in an unimpressive show of rage, practically stomping one foot down.

“It wasn’t my fault there was a rock in the road!” He wailed, though didn’t argue any further, instead slumping his shoulders as he went to switch off with Iris. She patted her friend on the arm as they swapped spots, though the blonde merely patted.

“May I ask what the three of you would need with such a large amount of supplies?” Ignis questioned as he helped Iris climb up into the seat of the wagon, her brother already steering the other wagon ahead.

As he urged the yellow chocobo forward, the young girl by his side bobbed her head to a song only she could hear, humming quietly before she answered. “Oh, they’re for Lestallum. Not all of it, of course, the city is much too big for that. We get supplies from all over Lucis! All on different schedules and whatnot.”

“I see.”

It seemed that he had opened the flood gates, as Iris only continued from there, talking incessantly about this and that. Quickly changing from trade routes, it then went to her family, to Lestallum in general, and then she’d begun to try prying into his and Noctis’s lives.

He shut her down as soon as that had begun.

She became a bit disheartened at that, turning away and silencing herself. Ignis sighed. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh to the girl, but the less people that knew about Noctis, the better.

They continued on the road for a while longer, the sun shifting overhead until it had begun to set. “I told you we should’ve stopped in Longwythe and spent the night there!” Iris huffed. “Now we have to deal with the chance of daemons and monsters, camping out here…” She was spreading out a bedroll, another one tucked under her arm as Ignis watched from the back of the cart, still shielding a sleeping Noctis in his arms.

Gladio let out a frustrated noise though he never once looked away from the fire he was building up. “And I told you we’ll be fine as long as we don’t let the fire go out. Besides, if _somebody_ hadn’t of broken the wheel-”

“It was an accident!” Prompto defended from his seated position, a small, shallow basket of greens in his hands as he fed the birds. “You really think I’m put together enough to set up a plan like that? Huh?”

Their bickering continued for a bit longer after that, Ignis watching with a startled sort of expression. “Is this normal for the three of you?” He would eventually come to question as he rose to his feet, cradling Noctis to him like a newborn so that he could sit him atop the unrolled sleeping bag rather than the wooden cart.

“Entirely. Though normally Prompto stays out of it.” With the fire properly roaring to life, the oldest man leaned back, resting on his elbows. His amber eyes watched the newcomers to the group with a wary sort of look that Ignis didn’t entirely appreciate, though he couldn’t really blame him for the concern. A man with loyalty as fierce as Gladio would certainly be a formidable enemy. He never wished to be on the wrong side of his weapon if it ever came down to such a thing.

After a few moments of quiet, aside from the chocobos ravenous feeding, the blonde man cleared his throat. “So… who’s cooking tonight? It’s not quite dark yet, I’m sure Gladio could hunt something in time.”

“If you have the necessities, I could make us all dinner.” Ignis had his hand on his chin as if thinking, nodding to himself. “It’s the very least I can do as thanks for your assistance.”

“ _Very least you can do_ ,” Gladio repeated in a near mocking parody of the younger brunette’s voice, “damn, where the fuck are you even from! Talking like that. You some like some prim and proper noble from Insomnia.”

Ignis could feel his face heating both from embarrassment and anger at his companion’s tone of voice. “As it stands, I am from Insomnia.” Noctis shifted by his side, groaning softly, prompting green eyes to shift down to him. “We both are.”

An incredulous sort of snort rumbled from Gladio as he climbed to his feet, brushing off his hands against his pants. “Great, we’ve taken in _two_ nobles on the run from some shady business. I got hunting I need to do, you, your _highness_ , can stay right there. Don’t wantcha breaking a nail, or those dumb little glasses of yours.”

Narrowing his eyes, the younger brunette stood up as well with a scowl settling onto his features. “Lend me a gun and I will gladly help you. I’m not as weak, nor useless, as you seem to think.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it. Prompto, fetch your rifle. Let’s see if this brat’s aim is as good as he seems to think.”

_His breath was wisps on the wind, a chill harsher than any fire he’d ever met against his skin. Fingers itched, bones ached, and he could feel tears staining his face with frozen trails. There wasn’t a single thing within sight, just wide open spaces of chilled soil, barren, and ashy snow beneath his boots. Nobody by his side, not even a single blade of grass, just himself and the cold._

_Then he saw it, a fast movement. Faster than his eye could follow. He took off after it, steps crunching down against the dirt and snow, but there was nothing. Nothing at all. But each time he stopped; there it was again, always just out of view._

_Something called his name as he came to a halt, catching his breath. He doubled over, bending at the waist with his hands on his thighs, winded breaths heavy on the chilled air, and then he came eye-to-eye with a small creature._

_About knee high to him, little gray canine of sorts watched him with curious, sly eyes. A red horn was in the center of its forehead. It was certainly unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It turned tail and started down a small hill._

_“Wait!” He called, chasing after it. “Don’t leave me!”_

_The little creature drew him into a long, winding tunnel, his only guide in the pitch blackness of the dark the glow given off by the red horn on its head. After some time, though he couldn’t say how long it had been, he arrived at a chasm, and, hanging above it rested a giant geode of sorts, ruby-red in color._

_He found himself wondering what this place was, what this rock was for, and why the creature had led him here. With curious fingers, he gently ran his touch over the red gemstone. Instantly, he felt only regret as the crystal began to draw him in, further, and further,_

_“Noct!” Someone called his voice, but he didn’t recognize it. “Noct! Come on, buddy, it’s time to wake up! Noct!”_

He startled awake, sitting up in one, swift movement, only for his head to make solid contact with something hard. “Ow!” Noctis exclaimed, rubbing his forehead, though he quickly froze in place when he heard the soft, pained groaning of another person. That didn’t sound like Ignis…

Blue eyes slowly opened, and he pushed his overgrown bangs from his face, catching sight of a thin, blonde man sitting on his rear, palm rubbing over his own forehead. Noctis startled away, kicking up dirt with his stumbled movements before his side clenched in pain and he nearly doubled over in pain.

“Easy, easy,” there was a second voice, this one sounding like a young woman, or maybe a teen, and he turned to look up at a short brunette hovering nearby, her hands held up placatingly. “We’re not going to hurt you. In fact, we’re taking you and your friend to Galdin Quay so you can see a doctor.”

“Friend? Do you mean Ignis?” Noctis kept rubbing at the spot his head had knocked together with the blonde’s, letting out a soft groan. Hopefully, it wouldn’t bruise…

“Yup! He’s helping my brother hunt, they left not too long ago. I’m Iris! And that’s Prompto.”

This _Prompto_ guy was rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky as he presses one palm over the red spot on his head. Regalia let out a soft _kweh_ and stepped over to him, pulling at blonde locks until he waved her away. “Ow, not helping.” She seemed offended by his refusal of preening and made her way to Noctis instead, laying down behind him.

He leaned back into her feathered side, gently petting her beak. She’d been unsaddled at some point, he could see it placed atop a rock nearby, and brushed clean of any dirt. “I’m glad you’re alright, girl.” Chirping, the chocobo pushed her face past his hands, beak settling on his ebony hair as she began to groom through it. “You and your preening. You’re lucky you’re cute.” Though, it certainly helped he still very much felt like he was recovering from a gunshot to the side.

Prompto managed to sit up, grunting softly. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” The blonde questioned, scooting a bit closer to get a better look at him in the dimming light. “I hadn’t meant to scare you! You were tossing and turning, calling in your sleep… I figured it might be best to wake you up.”

Curious, Noctis lifted up his white button-up, catching sight of the stitched wound. “I think I’m fine. Wait,” he turned his gaze up to where the young girl sat on the end of a wagon, “did you say Ignis is helping someone hunt?”

Iris nodded, kicking up dirt and rocks with her boots as she swung her legs back and forth. “Mmhm. He’s helping Gladio, my brother. I’m sure they’ll be back before you know it!”

“Well, until then, did I miss anything important while I was out?”

Dirt and sparse grass crunched under Gladio’s weight, his boots leaving solid imprints behind him as he trailed behind the hooved tracks of a herd of dualhorn. Ignis wasn’t but four or five steps behind him, though his own movements were much more quieted than those of his companion, try as he might.

“If I may,” the younger man started, quiet, “it may be wise for us to find high ground to take the shot from.”

“I know how to hunt.” Gladio replied, stern. “Get off my back. Should’ve fucking left you in Hammerhead.”

Ignis fell silent after that, following behind the taller man for a while longer until they spotted the herd, grazing out in a flat field with little in the way of obstructions. A shoulder was shrugged in the direction of the monsters, Gladio wordlessly motioning for him to take his own shot first. Testing him.

Green eyes narrowed up at him and Ignis aimed the rifle, staring down the sights with practiced poise. In the center of the herd, a dualhorn stood, its head fully perfectly exposed for a single, well-placed shot to take it down. He pulled back the bolt of the rifle, loading one bullet, and steadied himself before firing.

The gunshot broke out across the desert, followed by the thudding of a dualhorn hitting the ground, dead, and then the thundering of its herdmates running off. Ignis lowered the gun, turning his gaze up to the taller brunette, silently goading him to say something, anything. Gladio didn’t take the bait, instead merely stomping over to the felled beast, drawing a basic hunting knife from its sheathe on his belt. He began to field dress the dualhorn as the younger man stepped up behind him, adjusting my glasses.

“Allow me to help,” Ignis offered, crouching by his side.

He received an elbow to the side, pushing him back and out of the way. “You’ve already done enough. Go wait over there.”

Catching himself, the younger man stood to his full height, dusting dirt from the back of his pants. “What is your problem, Gladio? First you help, then you try to leave, only to come back and help us yet again, and now you want nothing to do with us? Make up your mind. Friend or foe, which are you?”

“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not your friend.” Gladio stripped off several cuts of meat, wrapping them up in butchers’ paper he’d removed from a bag slung over his shoulder. “In fact, I don’t trust you. You’re hiding something, and if it ends up hurting my family, you and this dualhorn are gonna have a lot in common. And I’m not just talkin’ ‘bout looks.”

“Very well. Then in the morning I will take Noct and leave. You and your family won’t have to worry any longer. My only concerns are of him, I could not care any less of what you do and don’t think.”

“That’s so? What’s so important about that guy anyways? He your boyfriend or something? On the run ‘cause your noble daddy couldn’t stand the thought of you dating another guy?”

“Do not speak as if you know me!” Ignis exclaimed, eyes narrowing. “And you certainly should not go around presuming into matters you have no claim to!”

“By the Six, you sound like such a pretentious asshole! Oh, sorry, does my language offend your virgin ears? How about you go pick up your boyfriend and leave right now! I won’t stop ya! Goodbye and good riddance!”

“You would send an injured man to his death among the daemons? Perhaps you are the true monster here. I am beginning to wish we had never met you.”

“Shoulda kept riding then!” Gladio was shouting now, full volume, completely aware he towered half a foot over Ignis and using every inch to his advantage as he stood over him, amber eyes glinting with dangerous promises.

“Quiet yourself.” Ignis told him, taking a step back.

“No, you quiet yourself!”

“You misunderstand, Gladio. I hear something,” but before either of them could explain or argue further, there was a group of three, fully armoured guards approaching them, atop three, equally as fitted birds. They clutched longarms in their hands, held in front of their chests, though it did nothing to cover the large emblems of the Niff empire.

The front most guard urged his bird closer, and Ignis found himself feeling as if he was under the tight scrutiny of piercing eyes. “You there. You are Ignis Scientia, are you not? Come with us peacefully, and hand over the prince.”

Gladio held up his hands, shaking his head disbelievingly. “Woah, woah, prince? Just what have you gotten us into?”

Ignis shot him a look, and held up his own hands, placating. “You must have me mistaken, sir, I am not Ignis Scientia, and I most assuredly do not know the prince.”

“Who do you think you’re fooling? I saw you at the party last night.” One of the other guards said, and the younger brunette cursed under his breath. “Why, you’re even wearing the same thing. You’re a horrible liar. Now, come with us, and tell us where you’ve hidden the prince. You as well,” he pointed at Gladio, who widened his eyes in shock, “and you mentioned an _us_ , yes? Where would the rest of this _us_ be?”

Faster than he could fully register, Ignis shot into movement, stabbing something that glinted in the setting sunlight down into the leader’s neck, pushing him from his saddle and taking the bird’s reins. It let out a startled _kweh_ as he climbed atop it and grabbed Gladio by the arm, hefting him up behind him on the chocobo.

“Hold on!” He exclaimed, and spurred the bird away from the direction of camp, the other two guards quickly following as soon as they had time to register what had happened. Gladio shifted into a better position rather than hauled sideways across the bird’s rear, and wrapped one arm around a slender waist.

“What’s going on!”

“I’ll explain after we make our escape! For now, focus on shutting up and not getting shot!” Ignis replied with a harsh tone of voice, unslinging the rifle from over his shoulder. With one hand, he passed the reins back to Gladio and twisted himself around, aiming down the sights at one of their dogged pursuers.

Ever so slightly, the bird startled as he fired the gun, sending one guard flying back from his saddle at the sudden force of motion against him, crumpling to the ground with a mighty sound of metal. The other guard fired in return, though Gladio, who had been peering over his shoulder momentarily, quickly veered their chocobo to the left, avoiding the bullet and turning them around in one swift motion.

Ignis had caught on quickly enough, highly adaptable as always, turning himself around so that he was properly seated in the saddle and took a second shot that struck the last man in the head, right where his helmet was slitted for his eyes. He slumped to the side, rolling out of his own saddle, the bird coming to a quick stop.

“I guess your aim really is as good as you say.” Gladio said, breathless. He’d fought other men, though they’d always been brawls, fist-to-fist, and he’d never killed anything that wasn’t a monster, yet, here he was, astride a stolen chocobo with a man who had just ended three Niflheim soldiers without so much as batting an eye.

“I suppose I do owe you some answers. Come, let us leave before more of them arrive, and I’ll explain on the way.” Ignis took the reins back, slinging the gun over his back once again, urging the bird towards the other two armoured ones standing nearby, pecking at the ground. He grabbed their reins as well, leading them behind for a short distance before releasing them once again. With a mighty _hyah_ he ushered them away, sending them squawking in separate directions.

He steered their chocobo into a different course. “We’ll take an indirect way back. It should make it more difficult for them to track us.”

“That’s some quick thinking.” Gladio said, releasing his near death-grip around the younger man’s slim waist, instead settling his hands just above his hips to hold on instead.

“Now, that nearly feels like a compliment, Gladio, but I do believe I know better than to assume such a thing.” Though he couldn’t see it, he had the distinct feeling Ignis was smiling at him. “As it is, I have to be able to think rather quickly like that. I owe you an explanation, so here it is. I am the adviser to Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, he is my friend currently resting in the camp.

“Last night, the royal manor was attacked, and, as far as I am aware, we were the only two to escape with our lives. The culprits were agents of Niflheim. I had been reluctant to tell you as I didn’t wish to endanger you or your family. You seem like relatively good people, your unfriendliness aside, it would have been a shame to betray such kindness. Though it seems that I have done such a thing regardless.”

For what it was worth, Gladio thought he had taken the information rather well. He hadn’t started screaming or cursing, which was certainly worth its weight. “Huh.” The older brunette eventually huffed out. “I guess that really does explain a lot.”

Upon their arrival back to camp, they were greeted with the sight of their three younger companions sitting in a tight circle around the fire, chatting away as if they’d been long-time friends and that they hadn’t met literally that morning. Regalia had settled herself down behind Prompto’s back, though she was resting her head in Noctis’s lap. The Amicitia’s chocobo, a plain yellow-orange one named Sunflower was laying by Iris’s side, her head lifting at the men’s return.

Having disappeared under the cliffs a short while ago, the sun left the land devoid of most light. With the crackling fire and their lit lanterns, the daemons of the night would stay well away, but that meant someone would have to stay up, feeding the fire and keeping an eye on the lamps. At some point, Iris had retrieved their bag of cooking supplies, which mostly consisted of a simple pan and a cooking rack, though there were a few small cylindrical bottles of spices within the pack as well.

Ignis and Gladio had abandoned the _borrowed_ chocobo a short distance back, sending it off in an opposite direction as they took to scaling stones where their boots wouldn’t leave tracks. “We’re back,” announced the younger brunette as he and his companion crossed into the protective lighting of the camp. “I’m glad to see you awake, Noctis.”

He received a nod in return before the raven stood to his feet, walking over to his adviser to take him into his arms. Ignis stood, frozen, unsure of what he should do before he felt the prince’s hands clutch to the back of his vest, his slim frame shaking against his chest. Green eyes softened as he looked down at the younger man.

“Oh, Noct,” strong, though slender, arms came to wrap around him, holding him gently against himself, one hand tracing smooth circles against a torn and bloodied white shirt.

“Did he tell you anything?” Gladio asked as he took a seat beside his sister, extracting the wrapped meat from the small bag it had been placed inside. She shook his head, and Prompto did the same.

After a few moments, silent save for the raven’s soft sobs, Ignis lead his friend back to the fire, setting him back down with an arm slung around him. “I’m afraid that, in the morning, we will have to take our leave. It is simply too dangerous for us to stay with you.” He informed, eyes hollow, just like they had been when they’d first met, Gladio noticed. Clearly something was worrying him.

“What’s going on?” Iris finally asked with a short tilt forward. “Does it have anything to do with Noctis being hurt?”

Her answer was delayed, the prince’s adviser gathering his resolve before finally speaking once again. “We’re on the run from the Niflheim Empire. They attacked the royal manor, where we both lived. They seem like they won’t stop hounding us until we’re either dead or captured, perhaps even both.”

“You’re leaving an important detail out, Specs.” Gladio crossed his arms. Ignis hesitated.

“I’m the Prince of Lucis,” Noctis said for him, eyes stern beneath heavy eyelids, “and Ignis is my adviser. The Niffs attacked us at a party last night, celebrating the signing of a ceasefire, to finally end this war. They tricked us.”

“You’re the what of where now?” Prompto furrowed his brows only to arch them in surprise when Gladio delivered a swift kick to his shin. “Ow! Sheesh, I’m sorry! Wait,” his face turned sullen, shoulders drawing in, “my father was in Insomnia last night. Do you think…”

He couldn’t say it.

None of them wanted to think about the answer. But, at the very least, Ignis could try to offer some hope. “When we escaped from the manor, it seemed as if the attack was localized there. It may have never spread to the rest of the city. Your father very may be well, and on his way home.”

Noctis drew his knees to his chest. “Here’s to hoping both of our fathers make their way back.”

* * *

“You swore to me my sister would be safe!” Ravus exclaimed, face-to-face with Iedolas, his mismatched eyes burning bright like blue and purple bolts of lightning respectively. “Instead, she is missing, and presumedly dead! You’ve lied to me, Aldercapt!”

“Calm yourself, boy. If I told you she would be fine, then she will be.” The emperor leaned back in his chair, unphased by the man’s show of temper. “I tell no lies.”

“Is that so? Then what did you tell King Regis before you attacked him?” It was abundantly clear Iedolas did not agree with his sudden, sharp inquiry. Ravus realized his mistake as he stared down the old man, watching the smirk on his face replace itself with a twisted scowl. Slamming both hands down on the armrests of his chair, the emperor stood in as fluid a motion as he could at his age.

“You should think twice before you speak, boy! Learn to hold your tongue, or I shall cut it out! Recall who it was that abandoned you as you begged for help that day! Regis is a coward; you’ve said it yourself! Keep your lips closed, and you shall keep your head!

“Lunafreya will live, we still need her, just as we need you.” With a heavy sigh, the old man retook his seat, slumping though he maintained his poised grace. “Now, go find and assist Glauca in locating the failed king, and kill him on sight. Do not put on the ring until you return here, I wish to witness it myself.”

Ravus offered the man a bow before turning to leave, heels clicking against the tiled floor beneath him. Heavy, iron-wrought doors were opened for him by two servants of His Radiance, who both bowed in turn as he slipped out into the main hall. Waiting for him was another servant, their head bowed low as they offered him his blade, which was quickly slid into place against his hip.

“See to it my chocobo is saddled and waiting for me, lest you keep the Imperial Majesty himself waiting.”

With a mighty yawn and a stretch, Lunafreya awoke still astride a soft lilac chocobo. Walking before the bird was Nyx, reins in hand, though he looked weary, clearly having continued his stride the few hours she’d slept. He knelt down once, inspecting tracks on the forest floor.

“Must’ve gone this way…” She heard him mutter, and then he stood, resuming his previous pace. Two sets of tracks went off into the woods, away from the main road, leading them further and further into the towering trees and heavy underbrush. Eventually the tracks changed from those of chocobos to boots, around the same place that she’d spied a puddle of blood.

“Who are we looking for?” Though she hesitated to ask, curiosity had eventually managed to get the best of her. Nyx looked over his shoulder at her for a split moment before turning back around.

“The king,” he replied, as if it were a casual sort of answer and that she should have expected it. “Someone is chasing him. I think it’s the armoured soldier I saw by Aldercapt’s side.”

“General Glauca?” Lunafreya tilted her head, giving it a solid think. “That would make sense, the emperor sending his most proficient soldier after the king. Though, it does make me worry who they might have sent after Noctis… if he did make it out.”

“Of course he did. The prince is stubborn, as is his adviser, and I can tell you Ignis would never let anything happen to that brat.” Nyx stopped momentarily to flip the reins back around the bird’s head, handing them over to the Oracle. “Here, if anyone should see you, run. Go to the nearest town and try to blend in. You’ll have to lose the dress quickly.”

She looked down at her once pristine dress, though it was now sullied by dirt, ash, grass. It’d been shredded at the bottom, and there was a cut from where he’d had to slice away a portion of her dress to free her from the burning dancehall. She’d also managed to lose both shoes at some point, though she wasn’t particularly bothered. Heels had never been very comfortable to begin with, but fleeing in them? Perish the thought.

“Understood. If I am seen, I am to flee to the nearest town. Until then?”

“Until then, stay nearby so that I can find you again. Solid deal?”

Lunafreya smiled down at him in understanding, so bright it was nearly blinding. Even though she was dirtied from the chase and her face had been cut up by some rogue branches, she was ever beautiful. The prince, Nyx decided, was a very lucky man.

Nyx had left her there then, taking off into the forest, following the thin trail of blood and heavy footprints. As he ran, the blood became fresher and fresher, hinting his quarry was near. He was eventually led to a clearing, in which he found the still breathing form of his king, though his hand was clutching at an obvious wound to his side. Blood ran rivers from between his fingers, pooling beneath his collapsed frame, his right leg twisted in an unnatural way.

General Glauca stood above him, a heavy sword strapped to his back, though he held a revolver in his clenched right hand. It was aimed down at the king, his finger dancing over the trigger.

“Behold the king of Lucis,” Glauca began, voice deep and distorted from beneath his imposing helm, “who hoarded tranquility within his precious walls. Where is your tranquility now, king? Here, is your peace, by a bullet’s swift descent.”

Regis closed his eyes, fully accepting of his fate, though, when the shot finally rung out, it struck dirt several feet behind him. Startled and confused, the graying man opened his eyes, finding one of his Kingsglaive clinging to the armoured man like a child to their parents’ leg. Nyx drove his kukri down, hacking and cutting away at the heavy metal comprising the general’s gear.

Glauca struggled against him, clutching for the man before he finally caught him by the collar of his vest and swung him upwards, flipping him up and over his head and throwing him to the ground. Nyx landed with a rough exhale; all air forced from his lungs. The revolver in the general’s hands was cocked back and fired in quick succession, the raven rolling out of the way with widened eyes.

He kicked one leg out, catching Glauca by the calf and knocked him to one hip. Gloved hands clutched at the gun in armoured ones, and they started a struggle for the revolver before a swift kick was delivered directly to Nyx’s gut. Once again, the gun was aimed in his direction, though he warped out of the way with a rapid toss of a kukri.

“You’ll have to be a lot faster than that,” the raven taunted. Glauca growled in response, holstering his sidearm before drawing his blade. They circled one another before the general made the first move, swinging his sword downwards in a wide arc.

Their battle continued as a stalemate for a while longer, until Nyx noticed a crack in the metal of Glauca’s helm, that was. He must have made it earlier when he’d gotten some free hits in. Target set, the raven dodged, begging to the Six his fatigue would stay outweighed by the adrenaline in his veins.

His kukri contacted metal, though the position certainly wasn’t optimal, and, when he pulled away, the knife pulled away plating after plating of the man’s helmet. Half-revealed from beneath the red patterned armour stared a familiar face, one that made Nyx recoil in shock and fear.

“Captain Drautos?” The man beneath the helmet sneered, using the raven’s distraction to his advantage. He thrusted his sword forward, catching Nyx in the shoulder. Grunting in pain, the younger man clutched at the wound, and then Glauca turned away, driving his sword down into the king’s bleeding form.

“No!” Nyx cried out rushing forward, though it was already too late. Regis was kicked onto his back, and then a ring was removed from his hand. The Kingsglaive warped upwards into the bough of a tree, desperate before his magic left him with the king’s death, Glauca pulling his sword free from Regis’s now lifeless frame.

Peering up into the branches, the general opened his arms in a welcoming manner. “Join us, Nyx. For the honor of my home, I fought and killed under a king I loathed. And still, he betrayed me. He betrayed us all.

“He constructed the Wall, but only to protect Insomnia. He cared not for the rest of Lucis, leaving us all to suffer while he sat, guarded, and protected, here. You would be wise to leave now, Nyx, come join the Empire.”

“You talk about betrayal, as if you haven’t done the same! We trusted you! _I_ trusted you, Titus!” With a cry of rage, the Kingsglaive launched himself down from a bough placed in the general’s blind spot, driving his kukri down. The knife caught in flesh and muscle and bone, and Glauca fell to his knees, the sharp edge digging deep into his upper chest.

He collapsed to his side, hand falling open so that the ring he’d taken from Regis rolled out onto the dirt of the forest floor. Nyx stepped back, breaths hitching, and went to pick up the ring. A gun cocked behind him, and, by the time his tired mind had realized, it was too late.

The shot rang out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, my old nemesis, action scenes...
> 
> Comments and kudos make the world go round!


	3. Distance

Morning rolled around both too slow and too early, rousing the party of five from their various states of rest. Ignis had switched off with Gladio about half past two, keeping the fire and watching the horizon, so he let him rest longest while he’d taken to waking the others. Iris was first to awake with a gentle hand to her forearm and a quiet request. She rolled over under her blanket and stretched, arms reaching for the rising sun, before she rolled the rest of the way onto her other side and promptly unleashed a swift kick to the blonde sleeping by her side.

Prompto woke with a cry, which had certainly played a welcome roll in inspiring Noctis to open his sapphire eyes as his adviser ushered him into a sitting position. “Do not go back to sleep,” Ignis warned, “we need to get back on the road. Let us help our friends pack their wagons, and then we shall continue on our own.”

Other than a drowsy nod, he was mostly ignored by the prince, who merely shifted a bit in place, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “If I may recommend that we let Gladio sleep in a bit longer. We can wake him when we’re finished.”

“Yeah. He was up kinda late, huh?” Prompto was already in the midst of packing up his own belongings, comprising mostly of a bedroll and a small woven blanket that were rolled up into one and then slid into the back of the Amicitia’s wagon. Iris was doing the same, though at a much more leisurely pace. It seemed that the blonde’s energy knew no bounds.

Noctis grumbled something that his adviser dimly registered as a swear, though he’d already managed to his feet and had started to clean up the camp before any reprimands could be issued.

“And what about me? I am recovering from a gunshot wound, shouldn’t I get to sleep in?” Ignis had known the prince much too long to be able to sense the difference between him actually being upset, and when he was simply being a brat. This was the latter.

Snuffing out the fire, the ash-brunette rolled his eyes. “You may rest on the way to Galdin Quay, if you truly must. Niflheim could very well be aware we’re in the area by now, Noctis, we need to keep moving. You need a doctor first, and then we have to disappear. Perhaps we could lay low in a rural area…”

“Aw, you’re really leaving us?” From where she was hitching up their chocobo to the cart, Iris whined. “Can we at least see you to the quay?”

Noctis had taken it upon himself to begin saddling up Regalia, waving her away as she nipped at him, though she was ever determined. Ignis packed the final bit of their camping supplies into the back of the Amicitia’s wagon, giving the girl’s question thought. “I must decline. I cannot ask you to risk your lives, and Niflheim will likely stop at nothing.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing _we’re_ doing the asking.” Gladio’s gruff voice came from behind him, the older brunette getting to his feet. He fixes the buttons of his shirt, the top few having been undone before he’d finally drifted off into a dreamless state.

“The less you are involved, the better off you will be.”

“The Niffs will be expecting you to go off on your own. You’ll be playing directly into their hands. If you take the prince and _lay low in a rural area_ , you’ll be exposed and vulnerable, just like the herd of dualhorn from yesterday evening. They’re already watching for you in the countryside.”

Ignis hated to admit it, but there was a fair point in Gladio’s reasoning. He admitted to no such thoughts aloud. 

“Come with us to Lestallum. We’ll keep you safe.” He never once looked up at the younger man as he busied himself with folding up his sleeping bag. Though, as he went to stash it into the back of the wagon, he turned his amber eyes downwards, catching with green ones, and their sides brushed together. Unceremonious, the bag was tossed among the rest of the supplies that Ignis had meticulously organized. “The Amicitia family have been warriors for generations. The Niffs won’t know what hit ‘em. Besides, that brat looks like he’s quite the handful, I’m sure you could use some help.”

Unsure, the adviser shifted to look over at his prince, who merely offered a shrug in return, unbothered. “The more the merrier,”

“I suppose taking Niflheim by surprise would be rather advantageous …”

Prompto threw his hands up into the air, feeling awfully victorious. “Yeah! Now we’re talkin’!”

When Nyx awoke, early with the rising of the sun, he’d expected to wake dead, not clutched in the soft-sleeved arms of Lunafreya, her blonde locks curtaining down to frame both their faces. Her blue eyes were wide with concern, lips set into a stern pout that quickly turns into a relieved smile when his own eyes meet with hers. She’d since shed her stained party dress, replacing it with a simple white shirt and a blue-plaid skirt.

“You’re awake,” she stated, voice a soft hush, “we were beginning to think we’d lost you to blood loss. Glauca shot your thigh, you need to keep it clean and let your leg rest.”

Her words register in his brain, but they’re dim, fuzzy sorts of things that slip through his grasp much too quickly for him to fully understand. He’s injured, Nyx knew that much, but his brain caught up on one thing.

“ _We_?” Voice horse and parched, Nyx’s question comes out as a quiet groaning sound, barely quantifying as a spoken word. As Lunafreya helps him to sit, he takes in the scenery around them. They’re currently nestled into a small tent, the flap closed, hiding the outside world from view, with a small crate that’s been tipped onto its side resting by them, dotted with various medical supplies.

They hadn’t been captured by Niflheim, had they?

“Perhaps it would be easier to show you,” as she spoke, Luna pushed aside the tent’s entrance, revealing that outside the small space was the humble beginnings of a rather large camp. People milled about, some of which were clearly injured and being tended to by others. He managed out the familiar faces of some fellow Crownsguard and Kingsglaive with eyes still blurry from sleep.

He was handed a small canteen of water and took it graciously, downing it in one go before he continued speaking. “A refugee camp,” the flask was handed back, devoid of any contents, “is this all that’s left of Insomnia?”

“This is everyone Cor rounded up thus far.” Nyx’s curious look encouraged her to keep speaking further. “He went back into the city to look for survivors, and left the remaining Crownsguard and Kingsglaive to defend. They then split down further, I’ve been told, where everyone who was strong enough from the Kingsglaive has left to clear out Niflheim camps in the neighboring area.

“As it stands, the current plan is to make a safe radius for us to travel through until we can reach a more easily defendable place, such as a town or city, where shelter is more accessible. Cor plans to return to Lestallum once he’s decided we’ll be well enough off.”

Nodding, the man shifted his right leg, trying to get a good feel for how much his injury would affect him. “That’s right, Cor has a kid, doesn’t he? I can imagine he’s worried about his family. Has Lestallum fallen as well?”

Luna shook her head and gently helped him to his feet when he tried to stand, offering him a crutch to lean against. He spied the king’s ring nearby, threaded onto a necklace’s chain, and he pocketed it. “No, so far Niflheim has only attacked Insomnia. Though I’ve heard they’re looking for Noctis. I fear the neighboring towns live on borrowed time.”

She held the tent’s flap open for him to limp through, finding Crowe and Libertus resting against a nearby fire. He returned the wave he was offered, though he stopped in place and leaned down to the woman’s height as best he could with the crutch obstructing him.

“Did you have any knowledge of this?”

“No! I would have never come here if I had known they were planning something so horrible, and I doubt Ravus would have let me accompany if he’d known as well.” Her features softened, eyes watering up ever so slightly at the edges. “Oh, my brother… Cor never found him,”

“Perhaps he’s still out there,” Nyx offered his confidence with a gentle hand upon her shoulder as he straightened back to his full height. “I’m sorry I couldn’t pull him through the fire in time. But your brother is a strong man, it would take more than a few burning beams to keep him from you.”

“I hope you’re right.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, horrified of the thought she may never have her brother by her side again.

Nyx nudged her gently, causing her to teeter and sway in place ever so slightly. Luna looked up at him, curious, and he casually replied: “Come now, if I’m giving hope to the Oracle of all people, things surely must be lost.” He accompanied the words with a short chuckle, but he felt as if his attempt at lightening the mood might have fell short.

Covering her mouth as she returned a soft laugh. “I suppose so,” they resumed their pace towards the other two Kingsglaive, “I must continue to be a beacon of hope, it’s the very least I can do.”

Gladio had made quite the show of grumbling and complaining as they turned their wagons around, muttering about the time they’d wasted, as they continued up a strip of road they’d traveled only a day prior, but this time they stopped in the Longwythe rest area rather than continuing through. Prompto had been bullied into the back of their borrowed wagon, with Ignis and Noctis sitting up front. That left the Amicitia siblings to their own wagon, Iris occasionally looking back to make faces at the blonde who would merely pout in return.

Pulling their wagon to a stop, Gladio jumped down from the front and approached the prince and his adviser as they also came to a halt. “There’s a tailor in this town, we should get you some plain clothes to change into.” He received a nod in return from the younger brunette who then climbed down and walked to the other side of the seat, offering Noctis some help as he climbed down. “You two, stay here. And don’t break anything this time.”

As the trio walked into the tailor, they heard Prompto exclaim behind them, “Jeez! You break one wheel and you never hear the end of it!”

Ignis rolled his eyes in response and caught sight of Gladio doing the same, though the raven to his right merely snickered. He nudged him with an elbow, mindful of his injury, and frowned down at him when he received an offended stare. Noctis huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Their bickering didn’t cease after that, even as they perused their clothing options. “The goal is to not look like yourself,” the royal adviser said, putting back a vest he’d had his opinion asked on, “there’s no need to dress so nicely. You could never pick out such nice things when we were at the manor…”

“So, what do you recommend then? Advise me, Specs.”

By the end of their little shopping excursion, which Ignis had paid for out of his own pocket, his wallet had thankfully stayed in place even after all the running and riding they’d done the last few days, the both of them had enough clothes to last them the several day trip to Lestallum. The tailor had been kind enough to let them change out of their dirtied outfits and into new ones in her changing rooms.

Dressed now in a rather plain, white-and-blue striped button-up and works pants, Noctis climbed back up into the carriage seat, the laces of newly acquired riding boots catching underfoot. Ignis took his place by his side, adjusting the suspender over his left shoulder ever so slightly as he took the reins into his hands. His shirt was an off-gray and long-sleeved, though he’d rolled them up to the middle of his forearm, with a simple striped vest overtop. Rolling his eyes, the raven leaned over and undid the topmost button of his adviser’s shirt.

“ _The goal is to not look like yourself_ ,” Noctis mocked, earning a soft huff in return, “stop looking like such a prude.” He then reached back over and mussed up ashen brown hair, though it had already long since lost its normal spiked shape, patting it down over his forehead so it set naturally. Grimacing softly, he drew his hand back. “You need a bath.”

“Yes, just as I’m sure you do. Unfortunately, baths are in rather short supply while on the road, Noct.” Face stern, the adviser urged their chocobo forwards as Gladio left ahead of them.

Behind them, Prompto rested his arms on the backrest of their shared seat, propping his head up on top. “For what it’s worth, none of us realized who you were.”

“Niflheim knows our faces, however.”

“Yeah, but what are they gonna do? Pull over every black-haired, blue-eyed guy? Or brown-haired, green-eyed fellas? I think you’ll be fine, blending into a big city like Lestallum.”

Noctis crossed his arms, casting a sidelong glance at the blonde. He had a point, but he was still left with a sense of worry and dread. “I hope you’re right, Prompto.”

Their wagon fell into relative silence after that, the blonde leaning back into his seat. Only the sounds of the chocobo-drawn wagon and Prompto’s occasional humming permeated the air. It was five hours to Hammerhead at this speed, slow and gentle, and Ignis checked his pocket watch for the time. Just past noon. They’d be cutting it close, but they could reach town before the daemons started to manifest.

He could recall seeing it before, the monstrous horror of watching a daemon form out of liquid ooze, tar black and festering. Accompanied by older Crownsguard members at the tender age of sixteen, he’d been taken out into the field to teach him how to fight the fiends, should the need to protect Noctis from one ever arise.

Though he’d won, he was bruised for weeks.

About an hour into the ride, Prompto’s humming turned into incessant tapping of his hands against his thighs and his feet against the floorboards. Eventually, a record half an hour, Ignis had enough and spared one glance over his shoulder.

“Spit it out,”

“H-huh? Oh! Sorry,” the blonde brought his fidgeting to a halt and shifted back so that he was leaning on their backrest again. “I was just wondering, uh, do you know if the Niffs attacked _all_ of Insomnia.”

“Can’t say that I do, we were a bit too busy escaping our would-be captors for me to look.” From beside him, Noctis snored softly in his napping state. How he could sleep so easily during all this, his adviser had no idea. “Why? Are you worried for someone? Ah, hadn’t you mentioned before that your father was in the city?”

“Uh, y-yeah… he said had business in the city, left us at Hammerhead when we stopped for supplies. Told us that, if he weren’t back in time, we should just leave without him, that he’d meet us back home.”

One delicate brow arched, intrigued. “Is that so? What sort of business, might I ask?”

Prompto shrugged, bracing himself as the wagon rolled over a bump in the cobblestone. “He wouldn’t say.” It was then that he noticed the suspicious, sidelong glance green eyes were setting in his direction. “Oh! No, no! He isn’t working for the Empire if that’s what you’re thinking! Promise!”

“Might I have his name, out of curiosity?”

“Cor Leonis.”

Spluttering, Ignis nearly jerked the reins to one side as he whipped around in his seat to look at the blonde who had returned to his nervous fidgeting. “ _Cor the Immortal_? That’s _your_ father? I had always heard he had a family outside of the city, but…”

“Not what you were expecting?”

“Admittedly, no.” The older man was quick to return to his previous position, clearing his throat as his posture righted and his eyes returned to the road. He fixed his glasses ever so slightly. “Has your father ever mentioned to you what his duties in the city are?”

He caught the shake of blonde hair from the corner of his vision.

“Ah. Then perhaps it would be for the best that I don’t spoil it. Surely, he’s kept it to himself for good reason. Though, to address your concerns, I wouldn’t worry too harshly for him, Prompto. He’s bound to return alive and well. Your father has a knack for surviving events otherwise deemed impossible.”

When Ravus had found the end of Glauca’s trail, he certainly had not expected to also find the end of the man’s life. Though, there he lay, bloodied and armour broken, pools of blood long since having turned black-brown against the forest floor. His helmet was shattered metal against his head, revealing the features of a man he recognized distantly as a member of Lucian authority, a captain of the Kingsglaive, perhaps?

Waving a hand, he motioned for the magitek soldiers by his side to gather up his body. It was then slumped into the back of an arriving wagon, driven by a few Niflheim guards, these ones human. Discarded onto the ground, among the twigs and fallen foliage, was a kukri of clearly Lucian make, bloodied, and a small handgun he recognized as the generals.

Ravus picked up the gun, removing whatever bullets remained from the chamber, and then unceremoniously slid them, alongside the firearm, into the hands of an approaching soldier. “What are the rest of you standing there for? Find the Ring of the Lucii, or you can explain to the Emperor personally why we failed.”

With a stuttered chorus of “sir” from the human soldiers, they fanned out, searching the nearby area for any sign of the ring. Hands clasped behind his back, Ravus began his own inspection of the area, before finding a line of tracks leading off into the distance. Blood trailed alongside the chocobo prints. Clearly, whoever had survived the fight with Glauca had headed off in this direction. Perhaps the king had escaped?

Caught to a low-hanging branched, gnarled like the hands of an imp, hung a rugged-edged strip of white fabric, clearly torn off as its owner rushed by in a hurry. Though, as he inspected it closer, he came to realize, with a frightened gaze, the pattern seemed awfully familiar. Memories of his sister’s dress came to the front of his brain, the sleeves a sheer, floral-patterned fabric that looked eerily close to this.

Lunafreya had witnessed this scene of events. She must have the king in her care.

“Oh, my sister,” his voice came out in a horrified whisper, and he was suddenly very happy none of the soldiers had accompanied him in this direction, “what have you done?”

Following further, he found that the tracks joined up with a set of boots and a second chocobo. Someone must have encountered her, though there were no signs of a struggle. Whoever had come across his sister must have been someone she knew or trusted. He kept pace with the trail until it met with a river, about sixteen feet wide, and rather shallow, but the tracks didn’t continue on the opposite side. They must have gone either up or downstream.

Ravus sighed deeply, staring down at the white scrap of fabric in his hands, eyes softened with worry. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, Lunafreya?”

Cor had returned about a quarter past six, accompanied by a small collection of shaken survivors, their clothes dirtied by ash, dirt, and blood. Their campfires had long since been smothered to prevent the Imperials from finding them so easily, though the coals stayed warm enough for them to cook a small supply of food atop it.

Nyx rose to his feet when the older man approached, placing one hand to his forehead in a salute, and the other Crownsguard and Kingsglaive within eyeshot did the same. Cor offered them a small nod of acknowledgement before he gently passed the small, shivering frame of a small child from his arms to one of the survivors, who accepted their daughter graciously, uttering their profuse thanks as they were shown to a medic. The girl’s leg was wrapped in a makeshift splint, and suddenly all Nyx could feel was rage towards the Empire.

When would innocents finally be left out of their war?

After the survivors were settled, Cor came to join them around the softly burning coals. He leaned in, all but whispering into Nyx’s ear as he inquired, “which of you has the ring?” Nyx motioned to himself, and the older man sat back. “Oracle, can I ask you to help tend to the injured?” Lunafreya offered a quick, curt nod and stood, brushing off her skirt as she stepped away.

A swift silence descended over the small group of Lucian soldiers all gathered around the gently burning coals, before, finally, Libertus cleared his throat. “So, what’s the plan? We’re going to have to move soon, yeah?”

“We’ll pack up everything we need early tomorrow morning, and then get moving before the sun rises fully. Hopefully, the threat of daemons will keep Niflheim search parties at bay. Though that then leaves us with the concern of where to go next.

“Hammerhead is the closest place of civilization, but it’s much too unguarded to be a proper safe haven. Lestallum may be an option, but I fear taking so many refugees there may merely make it a target for the Empire. I think it may be for the best that we split up.”

Crowe looked nervous, shifting in her seat. “And of the oracle?”

“She’ll come with me. And if any of the parties find the prince, or his adviser, keep it a secret. Do not send out any messages. It’s a near guarantee that Niflheim is keeping tabs on everything now, mail included.”

“If we find the prince, we do everything we can to protect him.” Someone nodded from beside him, “though I’m worried we _won’t_ encounter him. That adviser of his is a crafty one.”

“Precisely. Ignis knows what will be best to keep Noctis safe. I trust in his judgement, as should the rest of you. Nyx,” Cor turned to look at the raven by his side, “you will accompany the Oracle and I Lestallum.

“We’ll divide into our groups at a later time, but my current plan stands that I wish to take anyone with children to Lestallum. That is where they will be able to get the best care. We’ll have to go in separate directions, and make sure, if you are captured, no one tells where the Oracle is headed. Are we clear?”

He received a choir of “sir!” in return.

Hammerhead looked just as it had the day prior, though, this time around, it was sunset upon arrival rather than sunrise, the orange glow of the sun to their left catching in the windows of the hotel. Gladio grumbled as he hopped down from the wagon, slipping his wallet out from his pocket, “right back where we started.” As he passed by their borrowed wagon, he knocked one foot out from beneath Noctis, causing him to lean precariously forward, jolting him awake. Ignis managed to catch him before he fell, though that didn’t stop the glare he received from blue eyes.

“We’re here. You can sleep in the hotel room.”

“Gladdy!” Iris leaned up, reaching on her tippy-toes to try and reach his level before she whispered harshly. “ _He’s our prince_!”

“Yeah, well we can’t go around treating him like royalty. It’ll just key everyone in.” Noctis huffed behind him, crossing his arms, but he was ignored. Instead, Gladio merely pushed his way through the door to the ground floor of the hotel, calling out over his shoulder. “I’ll get us two rooms.”

Prompto jumped down from the back of the wagon, stretching his arms over his head with a mighty yawn. He set to untethering the chocobos from their wagons, brushing them down after removing their tack. Climbing into the back of their wagon, Iris retrieved an armful of greens to offer to the birds, placing them into a large, flat basket.

Still drowsy, Noctis stood beside his bird’s side, petting her gently as she enjoyed her dinner, though the sound of keys rattling caught his attention soon enough. A hotel key is tossed in his direction and he catches it easy enough. “You guys are in room seven, right next to us. Prompto can sleep in your room too.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Cause I sure as hell ain’t letting my little sister sleep in the same room as two strangers, and I miss having a bed to myself. He kicks.”

Meekly rubbing at the back of his neck, the blonde quietly added: “only when I’m stressed out…”

“I take it there are two beds to a room, then?” Ignis inquired, leaning against the side of the wagon. He received a curt nod in reply. “Noct, you and I can share a bed, surely. Prompto can take the spare.”

With a disgusted sound, the prince turned away, though he still tossed the key in his adviser’s direction. “Fine, but Blondie here better not snore.”

“I don’t! Gladio’s the one who snores, sounds like a train.” A heavy hand smacked against the back of his head, though light, eliciting a startled yelp. “Hey! It’s true!” He rubbed at the back of his head, and looked around them for any potential eavesdroppers before stepping closer. “Hey, so, I was thinking-”

“Oh here we go,”

“Quiet, Gladdy. As I was saying, should we keep calling Noctis and Ignis by their real names? Will people figure things out?”

“You three didn’t figure it out from names alone.” The raven in question huffed out. “Besides, if we start lying too much, we’ll just dig a hole we can’t climb out of. We just need to get one solid story straight, and leave it at that.”

“I agree. The less we lie, the less threads we have to trip over. We should settle on a story before we arrive in Lestallum.”

“Perhaps you two can be from Tenebrae? It would explain Ignis’s accent.” Trying to be helpful, Iris added in.

Motioning for them to follow him up to their rooms, Gladio shook his head and kept his voice low. “No, that would lead to way too many questions about why Noctis doesn’t have an accent as well.”

“Maybe we just tell it as it is? But with some extra stuff added in for safety. Noct got hurt in a fight, we helped ‘em out, and thought Lestallum would make a good place for them to live? You both know how to fight, yeah? Maybe you’re like, mercenaries, or hunters of the monster variety.”

“Monsters don’t have guns, Prompto.”

Slipping into one of the rooms, the five of them settled into various sitting positions. Prompto sat himself down on the edge of one bed, next to Noctis, while the Amicitia siblings took to the bed across from them, and Ignis in a chair taken from beside the door. “Yeah, but other hunters do. You got hurt and decided it was time for a change of scenery?”

“Could work.” Gladio leaned back, sighing heavily. “We can figure it out more later. For now, let’s get settled, and figure out dinner. There’s a diner right next door, so that should be easy enough.”

* * *

Finding Imperial camp after imperial camp had been razed to the ground was beginning to become more tiring and loathsome, Ravus decided. After the third or fourth one, his company had begun to properly seethe with anger at finding their companions dead and abandoned, not given so much as a proper _burial_. Honestly, he couldn’t care less about such a thing, provided he did not find his sister among the dead.

Beneath his feet crunched the ash-turned remains of some poor soul, but he ignored the grimace settling ever-so-slightly to his lips. Sunlight was a mere half-hour away, though it was much too early for any of his men to be on the move. For people working with and accompanied by creatures such as the magitek soldiers, he found that the Imperials were much too shy of daemons for his liking. Surely, he was no fool as to go about challenging horrid creatures, but the worst they would find in such an area would surely only be imps or an arachne, nothing worse. Still, he was taking the opportunity to scout on his own, unhindered by the possibility of him finding his sister and a Niflheim soldier doing something rash.

Ahead of him came the hushed sound of several voices, all speaking in low tones. Brows drawing close, he lowered himself into the underbrush, a hand settling on the hilt of his sword. From between the foliage, he could make out the forms of several Lucians, clearly marked by their lack of Imperial issued armour. Most of them were dressed in torn, ruined clothes, and even fewer had bits and pieces of Crownsguard or Kingsglaive gear, and Ravus realized then that he was looking at a group of refugees. Though he loathed sneaking around like a common thief, he wasn’t nearly reckless enough to charge headfirst into this sort of situation.

They were gathering supplies, stashing them onto the saddles of the few chocobos they had, and onto their own backs. Among them, he made out the shape of an injured man, gesturing commands from where he was standing, leaning against a crutch.

“Make sure nothing important is left behind, and that each group gets a medical kit.” He said, quiet, and watched as another man limped by with one foot wrapped up. “Libertus, you’re coming with us, aren’t you?”

“And slow you down? It’s a long way.”

“They’ll already be slowed enough by me, what’s the difference?”

This _Libertus_ and his, seemingly, friend continued their conversation, but Ravus quickly found himself wanting to stray from it, reasoning that he was unlikely to gather anything relatively important from it. A pair of women walked past them, one of them securing a straw bonnet onto the other’s head, tying a bow beneath her chin. “There, you look beautiful! Doesn’t she, boys?”

Libertus’s friend spluttered as he turned around, face going red. “Why, yes! Very, uh, pretty.” Libertus nudged his friend then, and Ravus decided he’d had enough of that conversation. He was quick to spot a familiar face among the crowd, Cor Leonis, and crept as close as he dared.

“Hurry up, we don’t have much longer. There’s a troop not far from here, time is very limited.” Cor accepted a small bundle of supplies from a child with a gracious nod before securing it to a chocobo’s saddle. He patted the kid on his head before sending him off and turning to the gathered group. Though he addressed them all, his voice was still quiet. “Children and women over here, I’ll be taking you to Lestallum. It’s where you can receive the best care.

“Vitruvia and Pelna will take those injured and sick to Galdin Quay. There are good doctors there. The rest of you will split up, and do as the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive ask. We will get through this, together. I know times seem bleak, but we all must help one another during these dark hours.”

A small caravan of chocobo-drawn wagons was pulled closer to the middle of camp, and various Lucian soldiers began to help injured or elderly civilians into them. Both of the women from before helped Libertus into the back, and then his friend into the shotgun seat up front. Cor slid bolt action rifles into both of their hands. He muttered something to the black haired man, but Ravus was unable to catch it, though he saw a stern nod in return.

Deciding that there was no further data to gather here, seeing as Lunafreya clearly wasn’t among the departing refugees, and that he’d already found sufficient information of where they were headed, Ravus backed away in the direction he’d originated from. As he left, he made out a few hushed murmurings of inquiries on the prince’s whereabouts, and, if they should find him, should they tell him of his father’s death?

If the king truly was dead, then, their soldiers were without their magic. Such a thing could certainly be advantageous for the Niflheim Empire, yet he was still fully aware of the Lucian’s combat capabilities. Magic or no, they were still armed, trained warriors, unlikely to go down without a fight.

“Lady Lunafreya, would you like to ride in the carriage?” Crowe asked as she lifted the last child, a small toddler, up and into his mother’s waiting arms. “There’s still space, and you’d certainly be safer.”

“If you insist,” the younger woman allowed herself to be hoisted up into the bed of the wagon. “Thank you again for all you’ve done to help, Miss Altius.”

“Of course. Take care of those two idiots for me,” she shrugged in the direction of her injured teammates, both of which were already bickering, “they’re troublemakers.”

Luna giggled in response and nodded. “It’d be my honor. Be safe, and you know where to find us. I wish you the best of luck.” She lowered her hands down, catching Crowe’s face between her palms, and leaned forward to place a gentle parting kiss to her forehead. “Insomnia is bound to be full of Niflheim agents, you have to take the utmost care. And, if you find my brother, please help him to me. I can’t bear to lose him as well.”

“And that would be _my_ honor.” Crowe backed away then, offering a salute to her fellow soldiers and Cor, before climbing astride a dark green chocobo as a nearby Crownsguard offered her a bow and quiver to assist in her mission. She ushered it into the forest with a soft _hyah_ , several Lucians waving her off.

With a heavy sigh, Lunafreya settled into the wagon, idly reassuring that her bonnet was still tied properly in place. As the carriage finally took to motion, starting its even path out from the edge of the forest, she felt a gentle hand settle onto her shoulder. Turning in place, her eyes met Nyx’s, the ebony-haired man offering her a comforting, though somber, smile that didn’t quite reach his own eyes. She returned it.

Cor ushered the wagon, drawn by two yellow chocobos, gently down a hill. “At this rate, it will take us a few days to reach Lestallum. We’ll have to minimize our breaks to avoid Niflheim. I expect no complaints.”

By the cart’s side, a duo of mounted Crownsguard nodded. One of them had a pale golden chocobo tied to the side of their saddle by the reins, leading it behind them. Lunafreya recognized it as Cor’s personal bird, one he lovingly called Quicksilver.

“Though, if any of you,” he turned to glance slightly over one shoulder at the refugees behind him, “need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Our goal is to bring everyone to safety, not to make you suffer.”

The passengers of the wagon, numbering to thirteen, too, nodded in response, some of the adults muttering out their appreciation. A few children followed their parents’ lead, causing a belated chorus of thanks. Cor smiled to himself.

They continued in relative silence after that, most of their passengers too tired to keep awake at these early hours. Eventually Nyx cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat, uninjured leg bouncing in place.

“So,” he started hesitantly, and eventually resumed his speaking once he noticed a curious arch of the older man’s brow, “you have kids, right? Missing them?”

“A son, yes. I’m sure he’s fine, his friends would never let anything happen to him.”

“Out of comradery for him or out of fear of you?”

That actually earned a soft laugh from Cor, and Nyx felt an unreasonable surge of pride from it. “Perhaps a bit of both, but I can think of very few people I’d trust with Prompto’s care so much. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just watching you interacting with those brats had me wondering, is all.” They fell back into a companionable silence before Libertus turned around, leaning on the back of their seat. Curious, Nyx went to face him, brows drawn close.

“Did you know this was coming? You didn’t bring him to the party.”

“I’ve never told him about my duties in the city, introducing him to it during such a party would have been overwhelming.”

“He doesn’t know you work for the royal family?”

“I just wanted him to live a normal life.” Cor’s hands tightened around the reins, knuckles starting to turn white. Both Kingsglaive took that as a clear warning to stop talking and righted themselves in their seats.

The hush that overtook the wagon after that was much less than companionable.

Just as reported, Insomnia had been taken over by the Empire, soldiers and magitek alike marching through the ruined streets. For the third time since her arrival, Crowe felt a heavy, armoured wagon roll by, and she ducked before the man behind the mounted gun could spy her. Pulling the wagon was a large, snorting, four-legged creature that reminded her greatly of a spiracorn, though shorter, and, just like the previous two, this animal was outfitted in heavy, clanking amour.

Its hooves drew quieter as she turned on her heel, crossing to a different alleyway. Gloved hands grasped at the fire escape ladder hanging above her and she hefted herself up onto the rungs, climbing until she reached the flat platform above. She took the next ladder as well, and the one after it, until she finally made it to the top story of the abandoned building.

A few buildings over, there was a soldier marching back and forth, a sniper rifle slung over one shoulder. They turned around, facing the direction opposite of her, and she took the moment to scan the surrounding area.

Insomnia was nothing but rubble, collapsed buildings and ash as far as the eye could see. Below her, she made out the forms of a group of soldiers ushering a terrified trio of civilians into the center of the ring their bodies formed, circling around them with malicious laughter. One guard kicked a woman in the center of her back, knocking her to her hands and knees as she pleaded for her life.

Crowe bit the inside of her cheek and went to pull the bow from her shoulder, an arrow already in hand. As she drew it back, aiming, she heard a man’s voice call out to the group. The soldiers faltered and turned away, returning to post, as the voice’s owner stepped into view.

Ravus helped the woman to her feet and made a motion for them to flee, mouthing something to them that Crowe couldn’t quite make out from this angle as he clasped his hands behind his back. They quickly turned away, running in the direction he’d gestured in mere seconds prior.

So Ravus _was_ alive, and certainly looked well considering what they all had been through in the last few days. As he went to leave, she quickly took off, climbing back down the way she had come not long before. Her pace was hurried, and his was anything but, so she managed to the ground before he was out of eyeshot.

“Wait,” she half whispered, half exclaimed. Peering over his shoulder, the white-haired man eyed her curious.

“Kingsglaive.” He addressed her, moving to face the woman. “You’re very brave to have returned here.”

“As are you.” They came to stand mere feet away. “Do you not fear the Empire? Ravus, your sister worries for you.”

He arched a light brow. “Lunafreya is safe?”

“Yes, but the Empire,” the cogs in her head finally clicked, and Crowe took two steps back, “you’re working for them, aren’t you?”

“Tenebrae is under Niflheim control. Did you expect anything else?” Ravus towered over her as he stepped closer, negating the slight retreat she’d managed. In her veins, her blood felt like ice, glacier slow, yet it burned. “You can assure me my sister is safe?”

“Yes.” Crowe whispered.

“Very well. Guards,” he called, and the reply came in the form of quick steps in their direction.

She turned to run, but he merely stepped one armoured boot onto the edges of her robe, stopping her in place. “How could you?”

“Lucis abandoned us in our time of need, letting my mother die, and our country fall. Is it not only fair I do the same?” A knife was thrown in his direction, catching the side of his cheek. “Tsk, come now, I don’t wish to kill you. Where is the Ring of the Lucii?”

“You mean the ring King Regis wore? I haven’t seen it.”

“Don’t lie to me. Tell me where it is. Does my sister have it?”

“I haven’t seen it!”

“Then I suppose we have no choice but to hunt down each of the caravans you sent out, full of starving refugees, until we find it.”

Guards surrounded them, taking hold of her arms as she tried to fight and struggle away. “I’m telling the truth, Ravus! I know nothing of the ring!”

“There’s a caravan headed to Galdin Quay, yes? And another to Lestallum? We’ll start there.”

“I-I think Nyx may have it,” she finally said, head slumping until her chin rested against her chest, brown hair falling to her eyes as she screwed them shut, “but he went off on his own, I don’t know where he went. No one was told where he was headed. Perhaps he’s trying to find the prince?”

Fingers tangled in her brunette locks, clutching tightly, and pulled until her brown eyes met mismatched ones, wincing. “Tell me everything about this _Nyx_.”


End file.
